


i'm young enough to be all pissed off (but i'm old enough to be jaded)

by badAquatic, orphan_account



Series: Trailerstuck [34]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, F/M, Illustrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meenah thinks about the mistakes of the past and asks a favor.</p><p>Takes place during "being for the benefit of miss harley?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. blood from a stone

**== >Be Vantas Senior: **

 

You sit alone, glaring out the window, hunched over with fangs slightly bared. The only light in the room is the glow of the fireplace. Your door is firmly shut. You had refused to go to the stupid “Sire and Grub dance” that Dolorosa planned. If she cared so much, she could have her rapist matesprit dance with his bulgespawn.

Just the thought of it all made you more tense, a low bitter growl escaping you. So much had changed from the past. The Disciple was with Darkleer and whatever love you once shared was as dead as Alternia. The Dolorosa cared more for the madman clown and rapist than she did for… whatever you were to her. You can't think of her as your mother anymore. The hate, the betrayal had set in like a festering plague. The Psionic and you drifted apart when you tried to warn him of his death by his own matesprit. He sneered and called you a crazy prophet and this time he wasn't going to follow your words. You weren't a prophet or bringer of world peace anymore. You were just an angry mutantblood jealous of everyone else. 

The words had hurt. Thus you took your leave permanently of their company and kept to yourself, alone in your room with nothing but your loathing, bitterness, and hatred to keep you company. No longer were you the man of the past. You were alone.

And being alone was something no mutantblood was comfortable with and the silence just made the days worse. The Dolorosa didn’t come near you anymore… since at your last get together you tried to commit suicide by throwing yourself off the balcony. You only survived because Dualscar caught you. Your bathroom was then cleaned of anything you could use to harm you. They said they were “worried” for your well-being. Bullshit.

Where was their “worry” after that damn highblood raped you and left you like a used husk on the floor? Not a single one of them thought anything of it, berated the fucker, or made him pay for it. Your only consolation was that you saw him imprisoned, years of torture ahead of him. He would outlive everyone he held dear and would die miserable and alone. That was one comfort you had; one comfort you could take to your grave.

You study your room. Fire would be too long and painful to attempt, but you could use the bed sheets to hang yourself from the ceiling. Could throw yourself out the window and fall to your death like you intended last time. None of them would care. You’re just a miserable relic of a time long past. Now you’re just a mutantblood to be used by Highbloods. You grit your teeth, claws digging deeper into the armchair. You hate everything about this place. Maybe you should kill the lot of them before you take your own life.

You turn back to stare out the window, ignoring the creaking door and the soft steps across the floor. You don't even jump when a pair of arms encircled you. Someone nuzzles your hair, breathes softly against your horns. Gaudy perfumes and lilacs waft over you. “So this is where yo' been hidin’ yo’self. Man, you've really turned into a hermit haven't yo’, Signless? You ain’t nothin’ like the days when I was chasin’ yo’ down.”

“Condescension.” You reply blankly.

She pauses, “Yeah, it's me… and what in the fuck is up wit’ yo’...?”

“Whatever do you mean? Did the fucker send you here? Tell them all to piss off and throw the kit down the well if they don't want to be bothered with it.” You growl, pulling away from her and getting to your feet.

The empress frowns, eyes narrowing, “I came here of my own volition. Not like I got a fuckin’ grub. No troll is gonna flush me,” she says snidely.

You snort, “I'm sure the Grand Highblood would be happy to fuck you. He was more than willing to give me a _soooo_ treasured fucking grub!” Your statement drips with hatred and you clench your fists to keep yourself from shaking, trying to calm down.

“Signless…” she starts to say.

You snarl, leaning on the fireplace mantle. Your hands curl against it, digging your claws into the molding, “But no one cares that I didn't want it! They only care that I have it now so I better take care of it because it’s my blood! _I hate it!_ I never wanted _it_! I look at _it_ , I try to fucking feel _something_ and I remember… I remember that fucking moment of conception! Every time _it_ talks I hear _him_ and then they all look down at me, say I should just let _it_ go. Fuck them _! Fuck them all!_ ”

Condesce doesn't balk from your anger. She walks over, wraps her arms around your waist, and leans her head against your chest, “Fuck ‘em all then. That fucker touches you again, I’ll rip his horns off and shove ‘em up his nook. I'll make him pay, later, when the moment is perfect. Shhhh….”

Her nails lightly trail down your chest causing you to shiver, slowly relaxing, “Whatever you plan to do… he deserves it.” you murmur, closing your eyes.

“What I got planned for _all_ of ‘em,” she corrects with a purr, “I hate seein’ you so alone an’ upset. They’re as much to blame here. They like to gloss over yo’ pain. I understand it. I've been the one to caused it for yo’…and it was brought upon me in return. I understand yo’, love.”

You sigh and let go of the mantle. You turn towards her, arms wrapping around her waist. She lifts her hands to cup your face, pulling you down as she stands on her tip toes. She plants a kiss on your lips, “We’ll make ‘em pay together. We don't owe them anythin’ do we?”  
  
You return the kiss and sigh softly, “I don't… but I don't want to fuck their shit up even though they deserve it….”  
  
“Then we wait for ‘em to bring their own doom. You've seen it haven't you? Just don't tell ‘em of things to come.” She purrs, pulling you to your daybed.

You grumble, “They don't believe me anyways. Might as well be the local nutcase….”

“Ah yes… I did hear about yo’ friendship wit’ the Psionic breakin’ up over somethin’ yo’ told him.”

You growl, “I saw him dead, Condy. Ripped to pieces by the hands of his matesprit. She’d been contacted by the devil she worships, that if she sacrifices him she would become made a demon of his court… he said I was just trying to ruin their matespritship out of spite since everyone has left me for… _better_ _pastures_.” You grit your teeth.

She snorts, scowling as she pulls you down to sit next to her on the daybed, “Fool. To think I thought him worth my time at one point. He was always blind, always lettin’ his logic, not his instincts, guide him. Not like yo’….” She strokes your face, leaning up to kiss you again, “You were the reason for my victory over the False Emperor, my Threscutioner Commander, my Seer, my lover….”

You sigh, but let yourself relax into her touch. You take one of her hands and kiss it lightly, “I wish the two of us could leave this hellhole and go to your new nation. I would gladly sit at your side….”

She grins and her hands move to undo your leggings. She leans in, only inches between you now, “Why I want to make things official between us. How long have we been dawdlin’ in flush wit’out makin’ it official?”

You lean back, pulling the seadweller with you and arching an eyebrow, “Flush? At times I think you are the best pitch I've ever had.”

“And yo’ best friend as auspice when need be. Perhaps we’re somethin’ more than just quadrants. I could care less. The only thing I want an’ care for,” She looks down at you with an almost hungry look, “is yo’. I want yo’, Signless... _no_...”

She leans in closer, “I want yo’, Kankri,” she whispers against your ear, hands sliding down your bare chest.

You tense at the utterance of your given name. It has become a name you hated and abhorred. It’s why you gave it to your first born.  You hated yourself as much as you hated it. You turn your head with a soft growl, “You know I hate being called that, Condy. Should I start calling you Feferi?”  
  
She makes a face, “No; _glubbin’_ no! Makes me sound like some sort of pushover fairy princess. Yo don’t even look much like Kankri Jr. and yo' should’ve seen him at the dance… he was all alone.”

You make a face, “So what?”

“It is a cute ball. All those little kits dancin’ wit’ their parents. Even Dualscar was dancin’ wit’ Cronus, bein’ over dramatic and actin’ like it was a tango. Li’l Porrim an’ her father… even Psionic was dancin’ with Mituna, at least I think it was dancin’. But one kit sat alone watchin’. One li’l kit wit’ tears in his eyes tryin’ not to cry. It was fuckin’ bloodpusher breakin’ so I danced wit’ him. It should have been yo’ and y’know it,”

You feel a pang in your chest and look away, covering up the hurt under a glare, “...we would have gotten in a fight. Something would have happened. I can't give him what he needs; it’s just….”

“Shh… I know, Signless. I know. You see too much o’ GHB in him. He looks more like him than you. The same sort of snappish temper and jabs,” she strokes your face lightly, “But he's an idiot when it comes to social interactions. He needs to be looked after… at least _try_ to be a better parent?”  
  
“I'm trying! _Dolorosa_ has experience raising grubs. I hadn't even held one until Kankri was born and I was even doing _that_ wrong!” you growl, a faint blush rising to your cheeks, “And the self-help books are fucking useless!”

She laughs and kisses you on his nose, “Regardless… at least now you have… a bit of experience. Would you...” She pauses, and then looks away, tense with nerves.

This was unlike her and you prop yourself up, “What is it, my love?”

“...do yo’ think we could have a grub? And don't go 'Of course! For yo’ always!' wit’out hearin’ the rest, okay? Look… if we have a grub you’re gonna have to raise it alone. I can't be near it o’....you either. Not ‘cause I hate yo’ o’ our grub jus’...” She bites her lip, shaking, “I'll try to kill my own grub. Fuchsiabloods can't… help tryin’ to cull other fushiabloods. It’s in our fuckin’ genetics but... I wanna a grub wit’ yo’. I want a strong boy o’ girl that is our combined blood, the proof of our feelin’s for each other....but...”

She looks so small and delicate telling you this. Behind her goggles tears are starting to form. You reach up to gently cradle her face between your hands and then lean up to kiss her. She presses against you, clinging to your shoulders like a lifeline. She was always alone, the evil “tyrant” of Alternia. You had once hated her until you saw how alone she was. Then you pitied her. At first she hated it. She saw pity as a weakness that she was above. You were persistent and slowly she opened up to you. In turn, she pulled out who you really were under the Messianic Cloak for a closer look.

She abused you, hated you, loved you, feared you… for all she had done why love her? You break the kiss to look at her. Why love her? Because beneath her own bitterness and spite, she was just a lonely troll looking for someone to understand her and keep her steady.

You smile lovingly, letting the bitterness, anger, and hate melt off around her. “Even though I think you are making a terrible mistake to trust me with another grub, I'll look after our kit, Condy and… I'll learn to cope with being apart from you just as long as you call me every day.”

She laughs and it sounds like a sob of relief. She throws her arms about you, burying her face against your neck, “Thank yo’… thank yo’…” she whispers.

You smile and runs a hand through her hair, eyes closed, “I love you, so I’d do anything for you, even if it was trading my life in for yours. What sort of names are you thinking of for this grub?”  
  
She smiles against your neck, “Was thinkin’ Meenah.”

You pause, tilting your head, “Meenah… that was your predecessor's name, yes?”

“Yeah, a better than name than Feferi in my opinion. At least this grub will have somethin’ fierce for a name!” She sits back smiling, “Maybe we can raise Meenah wit’ Kankri? Y’know, sorta keepin’ siblings together?”

“Ugh. You know I'll play favorites though…” you grumble, “I'll look after Meenah a lot better than Kankri and that’ll probably mess the brat up more.”

“At least he'll get trickle down attention? Y’know Dolorosa is gonna keep pushin’ for yo’ to watch him. Might as well show that wit’ our grub you can raise a grub well enough when yo’ don't have post-traumatic stress over it.”

You smile, stroking her hair. You begin to purr, pressing your body closer to her, eyes half closed, “Maybe. Maybe not… what I do know is that you are really irresistible right now.”

She laughs, letting out a low purr, “Once a hornbarkbeast Vantas, always a hornbarkbeast Vantas….”

You smirk and press a kiss against her neck as you slowly begin to pull her bodice open, “And you love it…."

You lean down to bring your mouth slowly against the top of her heftsacks and—

 

 

You wake up with a shriek, sitting up slightly in bed. You are Karkat, not your grandfather. It’s muggy in the bedroom and dark, since the sun has yet to rise. Dave groans, opening one red eye in irritation. “What now Karkat...? Trying to sleep. If you’re having Manor flashbacks just… I don't know. Think of something else, geeze. 

“I wasn't, dumbass!  I was just… I had a dream about being my grandfather.” you growl, glaring at Dave.

“Was it something traumatic and horrible since you’re screaming like a little kid in a funhouse?” he drawls.

“…my grandpa and the Condesce were about to have sex,” you grumble.

Dave stares at you, then grabs your horns, pushing you down face first into the pillows with a scowl, “Shut the fuck up and get back to bed or you’re sleeping on the couch.”

You pout but don't protest, “…fine….” You'll deal with fish porn visions in the morning.


	2. lineage

**== >Karkat: Be Meenah, the daughter of the Empress and Troll Jegus**

 

You hate being in this position but you have little choice. Feferi has twins on the way and your job isn’t going to pay for both of them. Feferi working was out of the question. Between her visions and needing to be there for two grubs, she needed to be at home and you wanted to make sure she finished school as well.

You have to talk to your mother.

Your mother, the Empress, always kept in contact with you through her agents but she left you alternate means of getting in direct contact with her without having to go through channels or hours of waiting on the line arguing with yes-men.

You enter your bedroom and go straight to your closet to pull out the black briefcase stashed in its depths. It wasn't a briefcase on the inside though. It was a communication device; a design that had not been seen anywhere in the world since Alternia. Alternian tech was “hard” to come by because your mother made it difficult for anyone to get their hands on it. The fact she entrusted you with this meant she trusted you wouldn’t go selling it. Not like you needed to sell it. Your mother was pretty liberal with giving you a shit ton of cash for your wriggling day every year, which you gave in part to Feferi for her allowance, claiming it was a work bonus.  You move into your dingy kitchen and set the briefcase down, clicking it open. The machine inside looked almost alive, pulsating softly. You press a few buttons and it emits a holographic projection, turning into a full sized screen. You frown as cheesy elevator music begins to play, waiting for your mother to pick up.

Its a few minutes before she answers, the screen flickering on. Your mother hasn't changed a bit. Her features are still flawless and her mass of hair is held back by a gold headband. A pair of sunglasses rest on the top of her head. She’s wearing a bikini with a crab motif going on (no doubt something your father would have loved to see her wear). Despite her impressive horn length, she’s as short as ever. She sits in a chair holding a martini in one hand, in a richly decorated living room. Your mother was an empress. Upon arriving on New Earth with barely anything, she made it her goal to become an empress again. With the help of your father, she did.

“Meenah! What's up, beach? How's my li’l tiger shark holdin’ up? You never call y’know?” she chuckles.

You shrug, “Been busy with shit and work and dealing with Feferi's little problem...I see you are still living it up,”

“Of course, beach, yo’ think I wanna live in squalor like yo’? No offense but yo’ should jus’ move out here wit’ us. Be a helluva lot healthier an’ I can get yo’ steadier meds for Fef's condition.”

Time and time again she’s asked you to move and you always turn her down. You wanted your friends to come with you but your mother was hesitant; probably something to do with your brother and his mountain of baggage.

You shrug, “Been busy with work and shit and dealing with Feferi's little problem. I see you’re still living it up.”

“Well… it’s because of Feferi that I'm calling.” you say, “I...need to ask you a favor...”

Your mother is silent and sets her drink down, eyes narrowing, “What’s wrong wit’ my darlin’ pufferfish...?”  
  
“Feferi’s pregnant and its twins and… you know how difficult pregnancies are for seadwellers even if she does have mutantblood in her. One of them is a fuchsiablood...” You trail off, glancing away.

The old empress tenses, “...have yo’ told her ‘bout...”  
  
“Not yet. I don't think she could take that kind of news. She’s a gentle soul. Being told that she’s going to want to slaughter her fuchsia wigglers for just being laid is gonna upset her.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“If yo’ want, we can watch the fuchsia wiggler. She might not be able to see it ‘til it’s fully grown but I made the offer to you when you were younger.  I made it again when yo’ took in Feferi to protect her from me.” She closes her eyes, “An’ I still hold it out now. I don't care what those other fuckers say, Meenah. Yo’ my daughter an’ yo’ are mine even if yo’ date humans. That don't mean shit to me o’ yo’ father. Never has, never will. Fuck, yo’ father would’ve been happy if yo’ had decided to marry an alligator!”

You smile a bit, “Well, he was a free-thinker and a master of politics. A good parent? Not so much, although I have to give him an A for effort!” You laugh, shaking your head, “Kankri hates him for all the shit he did wrong, thinking he did it out of spite like bathing him in the load gaper or putting the diaper on his head instead of his glute or accidently starching all his clothes… Dad just sucked at parenting. He only started getting competent later on.”

You look down at your hands briefly, “I'm really thankful he stuck around enough to help me with Feferi and gave Karkat some fucking joy in his childhood. I mean, what with how fucked up Kankri was...”

“Yeah, but yo’ can't blame Kankri for all his issues, just like yo’ can't say Signless wasn't wi’hout issues himself. His treatment of Kankri was bad… but he got better. It took time for yo’ father to work through his issues,” Your mother smiles a little, “But I take it yo’ ain't callin’ me to watch over the grub...”

You shake your head, “Feferi couldn't deal with being apart from her wiggler. I'll watch it and keep her off it. I can take her. I learned how to fight.”

“One thing yo’ father was good at was teachin’ people how to fight an’, ironically, how to swim,” your mother says, chuckling.

“That's for sure! I remember him taking Karkat out to the pool and teaching him to swim. You’d think he actually had sea dweller in him with how quickly he took to it,” You respond with a smile, sitting back, “But the favor I need is… I can't support myself, Feferi, and the twins on my paycheck. Not without her having to work and I want her to be there for her little ones as much as she can...”

The Empress nods, “I sea what yo’ are gettin’ at. I'll send you money. Really it ain't a big deal… well….” She pauses, “Yo’ can pick it up in person. We’re gonna be visitin’ New Jack, well, the home we own in the area, all the way up in the ritzy place. The big bright pink house.”

You laugh, “Of course it would be the glubbing _pink_ house… I bet you can see it from space and it annoys the shit out of everyone in the neighborhood.”

“Oh, they deserve it for bein’ a bunch of assholes and the fuckin’ pig next door that keeps eyin’ up my man every time he goes out to lounge in the pool. Ohhh _no_ sister! Yo’ don't go eyin’ Condy's boy. Not wit’out getting’ a cullin’ fork up yo’ ass!”

You shake your head, smiling. Its times like this that you really miss your mother, “Well, I'll stop in to see you old fishes. Would you… mind if I brought Feferi? I mean, you haven't even met her yet. She is old enough now and well...she is your daughter.”

Your mother sighs, glancing over to the side as if looking at someone, “We can arrange for jus’ the three of us to meet. Y’know how well it goes over wit’ my man an’ meetin’ people. Shit gets complicated when it comes to New Jackers.”

You sigh, “You can't keep that up forever...”

“Only long enough is what he says. Been getting’ some grim ass warnings about shit that might be headin’ yo’ way. Dark clouds, lightnin’, wind, an’ water… don't know what all these trippy visiony predictions are, but I trust my source.” She picks up her drink again, “How's Gamzee doin’?”

“...not too much better than his father,” you say, sighing, “Feel like I messed up or somefin when I raised him. I mean, Feferi was easy but Gamzee… I didn't want this for him. I didn’t ever think my boy would attack someone.”   
  
Your mother makes a face, “Fuckin’ smells fishy to me to this day. What I hated most was the damn Institution tied my hands in red tape so thick I couldn't get through it an’ then my man wasn't gonna do shit… y’know how he feels about highbloods. Irrational hatred of ‘em… still workin’ that out but I think he's gettin’ better. Maybe.”

“For you he'll try,” You smile a bit, “Kurloz is straightening Gamzee out, I think.”

“Ah Kurloz. Livin’ proof that not all Highbloods are mindless morons. Pity no one else sees it. He was as bright an’ well-spoken as his father an’ had a better handle on his anger thanks to his mother.”

“…I really appreciate what you are doing, Mother. You don't have any reason to. I don't talk to you nearly as much as I should….”  
  
“Oh shut up, beach!” your mother snaps, “You are my daughter. My li’l tiger shark an’ yo’ father's little girl. Ain't no way we’re leavin’ you high an’ dry at low tide. Yo' done as much as you can wit’ what life’s given yo’ between racist New Jackers an’ what happened on Leder. Life's been far from kind an’ yo've done well for yo’self, betta than a lotta people. I'm proud of yo’, tiger shark. I'm proud of yo’ an’ all yo've done in life. I think a bit of money to help raise two wigglers to adulthood is the least we can do.”

A flush rise to your cheeks and you rub the back of your head, glancing away, “…Thanks, Mom… uh… I really don't know how to pay you back….”

Your mother laughs and leans back, “Why don't yo’ just keep li’l old Karkat outta trouble? If not for yo’, then for yo’ Dad, eh? Y’know how fond he was of that guppy. After what happened to Kankri… y’know how dangerous it can be for a mutie.”

You nod and sit back, “Yeah and he's starting to look for a job. I just hope Jake and Dirk keep him straight. I know Jake has had a rough life. Not sure about Dirk; he’s like an enigma wrapped in a mystery lost out at sea.”

“Wouldn't worry too much ‘bout it. Someone's past is their own business as far as I care. How is Kankri doin’? He came runnin’ after me when I went to buy up Dualscar's old jewelry. Gonna rub it in his face I got it when I croak.” Your mother gives a wide toothy smile that you can't help but chuckle at.

“I’m surprised he recognized you honestly. Kankri’s been loopy, thinking he never met you, but then again mutantbloods never forget the scent of someone they love.” You shake your head, “He's been miserable.”

Your mother is silent. She sits back, closes her eyes. Idly she taps one long manicured nail on the arm of her chair. It is a long pause before she speaks again, “I'll send somefin for him an’ his grubs too. Yo’ can pass that along by sticking it in his mailbox right?”

A chuckle escapes you, but you nod, “Yeah, I can handle that. Heh. You really are a big softy….”

A grin is on your mother's face before she frowns. Someone is yelling off screen, “Hold yo’ fuckin’ horses! Tryin’ to have a deep an’ feel worthy conversation wit’… _what_!? Yo’ _serious_ ho!? Yo’ are wearin’ _what_?! Oh _shit_ son!” She hastily turns to you, “Gotta go, love! My eye candy is puttin’ on that speedo I got him an’ wants me to go swaggin’ the beach wit’ him. Mm, mm, mm! That ho is still somethin’ fierce an’ shameless when he wants to be. He jus’ got back from Trussia so he is still in his winter bird mode an’ sits around practically naked… or naked… when I have my way...” Your mother gives a perverted snicker.

You roll your eyes but laugh, “I understand, Mom. Go ride your wild lobster lover. I'll see you in a few weeks?”

“I'll send yo’ the final plans, beach, an’ I'll make sure to stuff yo’ full of the good food, pamper you, an’ then we can go swaggin’ downtown at Neiman Marcus for all sorts of bling, clothes, an’ wiggler things. See ya, beach. My man toy calls me.”

The screen blinks out and you are left sitting in your chair, a weight on your shoulder alleviated. Your mother, despite the lip you gave her over the husktop when you were a kit, always kept a good humor about her. Maybe an Empress gains patience when dealing with people, unlike your father. He only got along with Sufferist Trussians and Germaniums. You stand and head into your dirty, ancient fridge to get a bottle of Fanta. Fanta was like Faygo but it didn't have the gang connection. People could enjoy a Fanta without being associated with a gang. When Feferi was a kit, her dream was to become a Fantana, the girls who always showed up in odd places in New Jack and danced and sang in the commercials. Of course, Karkat also wanted to be a Fantana but then again Karkat wanted to be everything from an astronaut to a zookeeper. He was always rambunctious….

You go out to your front porch and take a seat as you sip Fanta, looking out over the rotten landscape of the swamp that was slowly swallowing up the land. It was full of wild lusus, bugs, and disease but you still preferred mucking around in it than mucking around in the city. At least it was legal to kill things in the swamp as New Jack didn't give two shits about the wildlife. PETAL was probably the only organization that tried to protect animals with lousy campaigns and stupid games. You honestly wish the lusus would eat the PETAL idiots. It would do you all a favor.

You get to your feet and step down into your lawn, carefully tossing the empty Fanta bottle away. Not like the lawn wasn't a mess and who the fuck cared if it got dirtier? Not you. You walk up Two Boot Drive and towards the main hub of the trailer park, before pausing at the faded sign for Weatherborn Lane.

Your father had always liked his privacy and had bought up all the land around him on Weatherborn. He was also paranoid of living on the “lower land” and thus built his hive on a steep hill. It had started as one trailer but as time went on, he added on new additions. The DD couldn’t touch the land here so he did as he pleased. After your father died, he decreed in his will that the house would go to a group of Trussian he figured would use the house for immigrants who were just starting out. Instead they had enshrined the place, tending to the lawn, cleaning it, and keeping the place up. You know why he gave it to the Trussians friends of the family… he was worried Kankri would sell it out of spite. It didn't make it hurt any less that you somehow failed him to the point he wouldn't let you take the old hive as your own.

Biting your lip, you head up the path. You turn around the bend and there it stands, Castle Signless, the Vantas Fortress… your old home. Nothing has changed. There is the trailer with the built on front porch, the two floors built above it and the little addition built on top of that that looks like a little egg. It was a round room, common in Trussia, and it had been filled with pillows. He had built it for Feferi and Karkat when they were just wigglers. You remember the two of them loving that room well into their kithood… right up until your father left.

You go to the front porch. You jiggle the door handle and give it a shove with your shoulder. The door lock had always been weak after… a certain incident. Technically you are trespassing but you know the Trussians won't mind. They know you’re his kin. Still, you make sure to lock the door behind you when you enter.

There are still bullet holes in the wall like a grim badge of honor. The room is far too neat for your liking. Signless always kept the living room a mess and Sonny would be stretched out on the floor snoring. The patched up and battered couch rests against the wall, marked with every single stain Kankri and you made on it since childhood. The faded floral rug Kankri and you made with the Dolorosa after your father complained about the bare floor. The kitchen still smells of cayenne pepper and paprika. The stupid picture of Betty Crocker is still tacked on the wall. All of your father's things are still hanging on the wall, kept dusted and preserved. It looks like he could walk through the door.

There is a small hallway leading to the downstairs bathroom and Kankri and your old rooms. You don't bother looking at those. They’re empty except for some spare daybeds. You head upstairs to the second floor. Here is the master bath and Signless's bedroom as well as two guest rooms that always had some newcomer to New Jack staying there until they were back on their feet. People were always coming and going in the house.

Your father’s room was always locked tight, double-sealed to keep sneaky and crafty kits out of his “adult” things. You turn the corner and go to the third floor which was the study and rec room for you and Kankri. There are shelves of books still here and the old beanbags you two used to slum on when doing your schoolwork. Your old foosball table is still there, polished and kept in working order. You approach it, turn the nobs, feel your bloodpusher clench. You run your hand along the side… there. Your old initials are still carved into the side.

You could have brought it to your house, but you had no room for it; had no way to keep it up. It was a relic of a far happier time; before Kankri and you destroyed any parental connection you had to him.

You move to the nest addition. The pillows are still here and look freshly washed. The walls are painted with elaborate landscapes of Alternia and he even went through the effort of putting the Alternia night sky and 42 constellations on the ceiling. On full moons you would lay up here with the kits, watching each star dot light up. Your father would tell you legend about how the constellations came to be. When he left, the two kits were devastated. The night after the funeral you took them up here to look at the stars… but you didn't know any of the legends. You felt a stab of guilt for forgetting all the lore and stories your father used to tell you just because you were “mad” at him and had… betrayed him.

Even now you felt the dull ache in your chest and begin to climb down from the nest. You leave the house. You don't know why you came here in the first place. It hurt to see these things; to remember a time when the three of you lived together in bliss with Sonny yapping at your heels. Sonny. You wish you had gotten here first. You would have taken Sonny in. By the time you arrived, Kankri had already splattered Sonny's brains across the back of the shed, tears in his eyes and heaving for breath.

You know he regretted the choice. Sonny had always been the one to climb into his bed when he was sad and lay on him in an attempt to cheer him up.

You close the backdoor behind you and look about. The backyard is the same. The Alternian plants growing well and still getting larger. There is the shed where all the yard work was stored. However your eyes fall traitorously to the brambles at the edge of the yard. You bite your lip and walk over, pulling away some of the vines and moss to reveal a beat up faded fuchsia and black derby car with a wide tooth grin painted on it along with the old signs of the fuchsiablood and mutantblood hemotypes.  Its propped up like it had been at the end of the season where you were all set to fix it up and go again.

The derby season.

As a young kit you loved mayhem and destruction. You loved to go to demolition derbies and watch the cars slam into each other; the screech of metal and smell of fuel in the air. You always wanted to do it, but you didn't have a car or the money. Kankri said it was a stupid idea and you could get hurt.

It was during high school, the last day of sophomore year. You and Kankri had come home to find Signless sitting on a beat up old car. You both just stared at him when he casually asked if the two of you wanted to help him convert the car to a derby one and see if you could take home the gold. The three of you spent the entire summer fixing it up, taking it to derbies and smashing your way to the top. You were the driver, Signless was the pit crew, and Kankri was the team manager. Some miracle had been wrought as you all got along, Signless and Kankri hadn't snipped at each other like they were trying to murder each other and in the end he had picked up both of you as you and Kankri held the trophy high, laughing.

You had wanted to do it again but the next summer you got involved with the Grand Highblood, Kankri ran off, and your father became bitterer and more distant from the both of you. He no longer saw you as family. Only Karkat and Feferi gained any fondness from him at that point….

You sit on the hood of it, feeling yourself choke up as you remember that time. The last time you the three of you looked, acted, and felt like a family. You really were an idiotic child… blowing all that up for no reason. You wonder if Kankri even remembers those years before he ran off, when they were nearly father and son.

You jolt when you hear the scuffing of shoes. You look up, earfins pricked up. You didn't expect anyone else to be down here, especially not Karkat who is standing in the road, looking awkwardly at you, “I uh…” he stutters, “saw you leave your hive and was going to wait for you to come back but… uh, you were taking a while and I got worried…” He looks down.

You just smile and gesture for him to come over, “No, no its cool, Kar. Was just… thinking about Dad and the past is all….”

“Yeah… Grandpa did a lot of crazy things in life I bet with you two….” He says softly shuffling over, “Do you think he knew who my Dad was? I mean…” He sighs, “Cronus is always going to be my Dad but, I guess I just want some closure on who was the deadbeat that knocked up Kankri, then ran for the hills and forgot I existed...”

“I'm guessing you haven't asked Kankri about this?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Like he would tell me. He would talk about triggers and then say it was Cronus even though I know Cronus isn’t my biological father. I just want to know. I mean, what if I need that information for health concerns in the future...?” He pauses again before turning to look at you, “Do you know...who my father was? My biological father?”

You sit back and close your eyes. You reach out to put an arm about Karkat loosely, “…well….” You take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

He’s old enough to know and there are certainly enough damned secrets in the family already.

“Signless,” you finally say, looking at him, “The Signless is your father.”

 

 


End file.
